


Clarity

by Palebluedot



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, POV Arthur, Requited Unrequited Love, because i'm addicted to that trope, but basically I am a sap, so you can read it however you want, well the part where it's actually requited is just in my head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 09:02:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3804577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Palebluedot/pseuds/Palebluedot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starlight and introspection about what it means to be brave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clarity

Camping out on the root-tangled ground in full armor is not, for obvious reasons, Arthur's favorite thing to do. But he must admit, sleeping outside does have its advantages. There's the view, for one thing. It's clear tonight, and through a gap in the trees, the sky's a gaping stretch of midnight black, studded with stars as sharp as ground crystal.

Ever since he was a boy, Arthur's been enthralled by the mystery and majesty of...whatever it really _is_ , up there. The clockwork of the heavens is as certain and unknowable as the curvature of the Earth, as breathtaking as...other things.

Arthur snaps his eyes away from where Merlin’s lying next to him, silhouetted by the dying campfire. Better to dwell on the sky. It's never so clear on the ground as it is up there. Down here, things are muddy as the mouth of a river, clouded with choking dust and sand and worry, endless worry. Choices are never easy, and when you make the wrong one, a kingdom's worth of souls threaten to tumble into oblivion. Well. He supposes that's just him. All the more reason to look up, then, and forget. While he can.

But forgetting isn't so easy as all that, because Arthur finds himself wondering, could he ever climb high enough to pluck a star from its cradle and keep it, at least for a time? Or maybe one's already falling to him, and all he has to do is reach out his hand, meet it in the middle – and hold on tight.

He wonders if it'd be alright to brush his finger against Merlin's. Leave it there awhile, and never talk about it.

He's being ridiculous.

At least, he's almost sure he is. He's not too certain he's got the right idea about much of anything anymore, though, which is why he turns on his side, away from all that starlight, and over towards Merlin. He shifts in his sleep, inches just a bit closer, and Arthur's sent reeling like he's had a handful of dirt flung at his eyes, and been thrown in the center of a labyrinth, walls closing in fast.

Of all the uncertainties of this life, Merlin is easily the most aggravating. He's an idiot, really. And he's never learned how to shut up. He argues, talks back, and is generally terrible at doing as he's told. As a servant, he's certainly nothing special.

But even so...he might be the truest friend Arthur's ever had. He's never once abandoned him, and somehow, impossibly, he seems to _care_. And although the firelight's far too low to see by, and all the bright and gleaming wonders of the heavens beckon overhead, Arthur's not looking up.

He tries to tell himself that all this makes sense, somehow. But by now he knows the sound of other people's lies too well to believe his own anymore. There's no logic in this. It's just as confused and bungling and downright _complicated_ as every other damn thing he's ever put his mind to.

But maybe that's not so bad after all. Maybe he could learn to find his way down this shadowed and misty path, if only there was someone to walk it with him. He takes a deep breath – cold and biting in his lungs – and wishes on every star he can think of for courage.

“Merlin?”

“Hmm?” Merlin's voice is all blurred from sleep, and it's far too dark to see him properly, but Arthur knows that Merlin's hair is messy and his eyes are blue and as bright as any star, and that he might just love him, and –

“...Roll over a bit, would you? You're crowding me again.”

The words come out in a rush, and even as Arthur says them, he's cursing himself. But what's done is done, and a small, knotted, _terrified_ part of him burrowed deep in his gut could sing for relief. Merlin grumbles a bit under his breath – still half-asleep, no doubt – and moves away, and Arthur feels a bit like he's just managed to save his balance, but he's still trapped on the edge of a precipice, with nowhere else to go but down.

He doesn't say _I think I like it when you crowd me_ , and he doesn't say _I wish I'd asked you to come closer_ , and he's beginning to think that he'll never have that kind of nerve. He's disappointed in himself, which is rather stupid, really. What else had he expected? He closes his eyes, and then nothing is real except the grass on his cheek and the phantom starlight dancing across his eyelids.

If the ground were to let go of him, Arthur realizes, he'd fall into the sky. The very thought of it is enough to make the bottom drop out of his stomach, and it's a little funny, isn't it, how he's frightened enough of heights to fear leaving this world for the stars? But stars or no stars, at least here, the way things are now, both his feet touch the ground. Most of the time, anyway. He yawns, and the last shred of thought that slips through the cracks before darkness takes him is that he might be unhappy, lonely, a coward when it counts – but at least that's something he can rely on.

Arthur never remembers his dreams. But tonight, he dreams of falling, and of being unafraid.

**Author's Note:**

> First fic for this show, so I'm a little unsteady on my feet yet, but I liked this one, so I'm posting it. 
> 
> Set at an unspecified time, in an unspecified place, on an unspecified mission, because sometimes, life is vague like that.


End file.
